Into Forever
by SushiSasha244
Summary: It has been 10 years since the death. 10 years of being alone. When, at least, Magnus and Alec are reunited, they must make a choice... to go on alone, or to die together. BoyxBoy, don't like don't read, R&R please!


**A/N: Well, a depressing fic… wonderful Christmas present to all of my readers! Please bear with me, I'm not the best at angst… but anyways, enjoy!**

_12 Years earlier:_ It's a cold, snowy winter night and two boys are snuggling on a hot pink leather couch—the younger-looking one, a boy with messy black hair and startling blue eyes is lying so close to the tall boy with spiked up raven hair that he was practically on top of him. "Magnus, tell me a story," he murmurs as he gently plays with the tanned boy's spikey hair, getting glitter all over his hands.

"What kind of story, love?" he replies. As he speaks he closes his eyes and leans against Alec's shoulder.

"I dunno… just a story. What's your favorite legend?"

Magnus is silent for so long that Alec thinks he has fallen asleep, but then he begins to speak. "Once upon time, many many years ago, there were two girls… Willow and Natalie. One, Willow, had beautiful red hair that gleamed like flames in the sunlight and a voice that was said to be the voice of an angel. She was sweet and gentle and innocent, as innocent as a young child, despite her 17 years. The other, her lover—yes, her lover—was equally beautiful. Her eyes sparkled like snow and she moved with the delicate grace of a fawn. She, though, had none of the innocence that Willow possessed—she had seen and experienced far, far too much for her young 16 years. Even though Natalie was younger, it was she who shielded Willow from the cruelness of the world. There was one thing she couldn't bear to shield her lover from, though: forever. You see, Natalie was a warlock and knew that she would live forever. She couldn't bear the thought of being alone, so on Willow's 17th birthday she made her immortal. Only a year later though Natalie's father caught them together. They were doing nothing, only holding each other tightly in their sleep, but that was enough for him—he had them imprisoned and tried for witchcraft."

"Is this going to be a sad story?" Alec asks, looking troubled. "I don't want to hear a sad story…"

"Just listen... it is sad, but it's beautiful too."

Alec looks doubtful, but nods for Magnus to go on.

"The pair of them were submitted to many tests, and in the end it was determined that Natalie was indeed a witch, while Willow was just under her enchantment. So, in keeping with the myths of the time, they burned Natalie alive—and forced Willow to watch. After watching her love burn to death at the hands of their families, she went crazy. She left and wandered the world, searching for some way to contact her Natalie."

"See, this IS sad! It's HORRIBLE… _how_ is this your favorite story?" Alec interrupts abruptly as his eyes begin to prickle. Hearing this, he can't help but think of him and Magnus, and imagine himself in Willow's place.

"Shhh. Shhh, baby," Magnus murmurs, after a moment of shock at the tears shining in Alec's eyes. He sits up and pulls the shadowhunter to him, kissing away tears that Alec hadn't even noticed falling. His lips ghost over Alec's face and neck and hair as he waits patiently for the boy to calm down, troubled by his reaction to the legend. After a few moments of total silence, Magnus looks down to see that his blue-eyed angel has fallen asleep in arms. Normally the sight would make him smile, but not today. He is too worried. Carefully as to not wake the sleeping teen, he shifts to a more comfortable position so that he is half-laying, half-sitting against the arm of the couch, with Alec encircled in his arms, their hands entwined. As he watches Alec sleep, he thinks about the story. Is Alec really that afraid of losing me, he wonders? Or is it death he's afraid of? Regardless… "I'm sorry I scared you, darling," he whispers in the boy's ear. "I'll never leave you…we are forever, you and I."

Alec stirs around in his sleep and mutters something indistinguishable, but doesn't waken. Magnus doesn't know how long he sits there with the sleeping shadowhunter in his arms, thinking and watching his lover sleep, but after some time Alec's sleep begins to become restless; as he jerks and cries out, his expression becoming terrified. Magnus tightens his arms around the thrashing boy and grips his hand tightly. "Alexander, wake up."

When he continues to become more and more distressed, Magnus finally shakes him hard and is rewarded by Alec's eyes shooting open. He begins to gasp for air, while simultaneously babbling on and on about witches and fire. One of Magnus's hands holds Alec's rune-scarred, pale hand and the other strokes his hair softly. "Sweetheart, shh… it was just a dream; you're safe," he tells the younger one. Alec twists to face him, his tear-streaked face adding to the desperate look in his eyes.

"Magnus, tell me the rest of the story… I HAVE to know how it ends, _please_," he begs, more tears beginning to well up. Magnus untangles his hand from Alec's to wipe away the dampness, leaning his cheek against the top of the Nephilim's head.

"Okay, baby. Just stop crying, I'll finish the story."

Alec brings his hand, the one that had been—and now is again—holding Magnus's hand up and the two of them brush away the last of the tears. His hysteria having calmed slightly—though his eyes still look haunted—Alec lays back against Magnus's chest, where his boyfriend's arms wrap back around him. "So, after Natalie's murder Willow searches and searches for some way to speak to her. 9 years later, having tested every myth and found not one that contained truth, an idea struck her: if she couldn't _find_ a way, she would have to make one! The next year was full of tried and failed experiments until the winter solstice, the day that her magic was at it's strongest—the day that her Natalie had died those 10 years ago—the day that they had met, 5 years before that—indeed, also her birthday. On that day, she at last succeeded. She managed to contact Natalie. Ironically, she was standing by her lover's grave when she did this… or maybe there was no irony at all, but reason. No one knows for sure. Regardless the means, the two spoke well into the night and over the next day and the day after that, but after three days the connection suddenly failed, leaving Willow alone again—until the next winter solstice. Then, once again, the two women talked until midnight of the third day, and again the connection was destroyed. These short yearly meetings gave Willow strength though, and she lived another thousand years. She fought and lied, created and cared, destroyed and hated, but in all those thousand years there were two things she never once did: fall in love again, or miss a solstice. At last, after a thousand and ten years walking this earth she chose to leave it—on the very day that had been her lifeblood for her entire life. Natalie was there waiting for her, of course. At the end of their three days they didn't—for the first time in a millennia—say their goodbyes, but instead walked off together into the misty sunrise. They were never heard from again. Ever since then, 10 years after the death of someone you love and every single year after that if you visit the grave of your significant other, they will be able to hear you… if your love was indeed pure and true, as was Willow and Natalie's," Magnus finishes, his eyes beginning to droop with tiredness. Instead of closing them, though, he chooses to look down at his little shadowhunter.

Alec's eyes are shining, a small smile playing on his lips. "You were right," he says with a happy smile in his voice. "That was beautiful… almost as beautiful as you."

Magnus laughs and returns the smile, placing a light kiss on Alecs mouth. "Why thank you, darling… but I think you're more beautiful than the both of us."

Alec just rolls his eyes, but as he does, an adorable blush colors his cheeks. "Where did you hear that story?" he asks curiously.

"It was… good God, it must've been at least 500 years ago. I was in France with a troop of traveling performers. A friend told me it one night and it just stuck in my mind. The beauty of it captivated me… I don't know what country it was originally from because I've never heard of it since; I've always wondered if maybe he'd known the girls, or been friends with Willow at some point… he was an interesting fellow; I wouldn't be surprised if he had been."

"So… do you think it's true?"

"I don't know, love… I've never heard of anyone trying it. I just hope we never have to."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

_Now: _Magnus slipped along the shadowed paths to the graveyard, hardly paying attention to his surroundings. Not out of ignorance- oh no, he knew all too well what sort of demons lurked in the streets of nighttime Manhattan- but because he didn't care anymore. What was the point of living without Alec?

He pushed his overlong, tangled black hair back to reveal an empty face, void of both emotion and of the makeup, glitter, and piercings that had been practically omnipresent for the past 5 decades or so. His clothes, too, lacked color and glitter: dark jeans and an oversized black hoodie that made him look thin and sick. Magnus didn't care; it had once belonged to Alec, and even now he thought he could sometimes catch his boyfriend's scent, left lingering on the material. Alec smelled wonderful- like soap and coffee. He smelled like home.

The only adornment he wore was a simple black, silver, and sapphire ring, hanging from a chain around his neck- an engagement ring. Magnus knew that he shouldn't have kept the ring, that keeping it would just make it that much harder for him to forget the beautiful, sweet boy whom had been his whole word- but that was exactly the problem. He didn't want to forget Alec. Magnus had spent so, so long, close to 800 years, forgetting. His life had developed a pattern: he would become close to someone, they'd leave, and he'd move on; push then to the back of his mind; black out the pain. In his 800 years, he'd perfected the art of forgetting until he could remember naught but a tangled mess of blurred faces and scrambled names. At the time it's seemed worth it, but now… now, he was sick of forgetting. Alec didn't deserve to be forgotten, not by Magnus nor by any other person who had known him.

As he arrived at the graveyard and kneeled in front of a simple headstone, he thought back to the day of Alec's death. It'd been a Thursday, in December, almost exactly 10 years ago- 5 months after Magnus had discovered the spell for immortality, barely one month after Magnus had finally given in and let Alec use the spell. Just one short month after he'd thought that he'd have his blue-eyed angel by his side forever. That was the day he'd kissed Alec good-bye for the last time. Then the young shadowhunter had left to go demon-hunting with his siblings and Magnus had set about painstakingly doing his hair and makeup and choosing the perfect thing to wear-painstakingly, because everything had to be flawless that evening.

He could still remember with perfect clarity the growing worry that he had felt as hours went by and still Alec didn't come home; the way he'd immediately snatched up his cell phone when it rang, then breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Institutes phone number, the crushing panic, the emptiness as Isabelle spoke those three unthinkable words: "Alec is dead." He vaguely remembered dropping the phone, collapsing to the floor and sitting there staring at the wall for hours until it finally hit him like a freight train- Alec was gone. He remembered crying and crying while Chairman Meow wailed as if sensing that his snuggle buddy wasn't coming back, until finally there wasn't a single tear left in him, and then falling into a restless, nightmare-riddled sleep while Chairman's distressed, haunting meows echoed throughout the apartment. He remembered the next weeks only dimly- the Clave refusing to allow Alec the traditional Shadowhunter burial because of his short-lived immortality, the small funeral consisting only of the Lightwoods, the Graymarks, Magnus, and a few close friends. The ceremony had been as close to the Shadowhunter one as they could manage, but Magnus knew that it still pained the Lightwoods that their eldest son had not been buried as a Shadowhunter.

Finally, he began to speak. "Well, Alec… it's been 10 years. 10 years without you… and today is the solstice. Can you hear me? I-I miss you. More than you could ever imagine. Or maybe you can imagine it… do _you_ miss _me_? Wherever you are, are you happy? I hope so… but I can't help but think that you aren't. I don't know why, I really don't, I just… do. This sounds so horrible, but… part of me doesn't want you o be happy there. I want you to miss me. I keep wishing that… that I could hold you again. Just have you back here, safe in my arms, one last time. You were my world, you know that? I would've done anything for you. I know that you thought that you were nothing to me, that after you I would just move on and find someone else, but… I can't. It was never going to be that way; you were always going to be the one. You'd think that after 800 years, I'd be able to move on. You'd think that I would no longer have the capacity to feel, like so many others my age, but I still feel all too clearly… every day is like a day in hell, Alexander. These 10 years, they've been longer than my entire existence, because I miss you. Honestly, there's nothing else I can say other than that… I miss you, and I love you, and… I love you Allie. I always have."

Magnus waited for almost an hour in the graveyard, but at last he had to accept the facts: it wasn't going to work. The legend had been a lie. He wasn't going to see Alec.

He made it back to his apartment quickly. In the early days after Alexander's death, it had been like a knife through his heart every time he thought those words: _his_ apartment. No longer _theirs_… only his. That was one of the few pains, though, that had faded since then and now it was only a dull ache instead of the sharp, piercing pain it had been.

It was as if, as soon as he crossed the threshold of the apartment, it hit him for the second time in 10 years: Alec was _gone_. That legend had been his last hope, the last thing left to try. He hadn't realized until now how much hope that story had held for him until now, when… it didn't work. He'd had the ridiculous notion that that legend HAD to be the one to work. He didn't know why; maybe it was because that was the story that lurked at the back of his mind since the day he first fell in love with a mortal. Maybe it was because he had told Alec the legend that night. Maybe it was because it was just so beautiful. He didn't know why he'd believed that it was true or why it hadn't worked… he just knew that it hurt.

"NO!" he screamed, punching the wall in his fury. His hand went through the flimsy plaster and when he pulled it back out the skin was torn in multiple places, blood beginning to well up. He could hardly feel it. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!"

With each "no" he threw something—a painting hanging on the wall, a half-full glass of water, and a marble sculpture among them. His distressed rampage continued for some time until he tripped and fell, and there he stayed, his tears soaking the carpet. As he lay crying, his lips formed the same words over and over: Alec, I love you. He eventually became aware of another presence in the room. It was Chairman Meow, creeping cautiously towards him, his green eyes shining brightly in the darkness of the apartment. The tiny cat curled up against Magnus's side and nudged his hand slightly, as if to check if he was still alive. When there was no response, he began to drag his tiny pink tongue over the warlock's hand. "Are you ok, buddy?" he seemed to be asking.

"No," he whispered softly, so softly he could barely hear his own voice. "I'm not okay."

It was all dark. Magnus knew that he was dreaming… he just didn't know HOW he knew it! Then it appeared—a voice. No, not A voice… THE voice. The quiet, slightly husky, vulnerable voice that he had waited 10 years to hear again. Alec's voice. He listened intently to each word. He became more and more confused as his angel went on, but it didn't bother him… it was Alec's voice, and therefore, he was happy.

Magnus woke up with one hand wrapped around the ring, feeling happier than he had in years—so happy that, purely on instinct, he rolled over, searching for Alec's warm body next to him. Then he remembered that Alec was dead. Apparently the previous night had drained him of all emotion, for the thought didn't upset him at all… it just made him wonder. Why, if Alec was dead, was he so happy? As he stroked Chairman Meow's fur, one sentence lingered in his mind: "Maybe I'll be with you soon, love."

Wait, that was it… the dream! Within literally seconds (super speediness… part of being a warlock!) he was out the door and on his way to the graveyard. He reached it in record time and, with shaking legs, knelt down in front of the headstone. "A-A-Alec?" he whispered hoarsely. There was no reply, and on instinct he reached up to grip the ring hanging around his neck, and suddenly… he was somewhere else. And there, across a grassy stretch of land, was Alec.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

_Now:_ Alec stared at the picture listlessly, feeling the dull, familiar ache tug at his heart as he watched over and over again Magnus pulling the Alec to him. He watched the warlock put his sparkly neon-nailed hands on either side of his face and kiss him, long and sweet and full of love. He didn't look away, couldn't, and gradually the images faded away into sluggish blobs as he stared at his own reflection in the glossy surface of the photo.

His face looked alien to his own eyes—after Magnus had died, he'd gotten rid of every single mirror in their apartment, and by now he had trained himself to avoid looking into windows and other reflective surfaces. Every time he saw his image, he couldn't help but think of his warlock and how he'd always insisted that he was beautiful. Alec didn't have to worry about seeing his dimples and remembering how adorable Magnus thought they were—he hadn't smiled for over a year. His hair, too, had changed; it no longer flopped over his eyes in the way that the warlock went back and forth between loving and being annoyed with. He now kept it short because the old style reminded him too much of Magnus. His eyes, though… they hadn't changed. Magnus used to call them "le chant de l'océan", the singing of the ocean, because of the way they changed colors.

Magnus loved to use little phrases of other languages: Latin, French, German, Italian, Greek, Dutch, Japanese... by now Alec could identify any of those. Suddenly, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, overcome by the odd urge to try and write down every language in which Magnus had ever told him he loved him. English, of course: "I love you". German, "Ich liebe dich". Dutch, "Ik hou van je". Finnish, "Rakastan sinua". Japanese, "Watashi wa anata o aishite". Greek, "σ 'αγαπώ". Latin, "i te". He knew that there were others, but couldn't think of them. That was odd—one of his most frequent nightmares was of the two of them all over the world, and in each place Magnus proposed and then was killed, his last words being "I love you" while a million places, a million languages, a million "I love you"s flashed by. Then, he watched as Magnus faded—first to the pale coldness of death, then to rotting flesh, to bones, then into nothing but dust. No matter how he tried, he could never walk away. Maybe it was because each time he clung to the hope that it would end differently ,and it would turn out that the last 10 years had been a nightmare and that that had been the real world.

Biting down of the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from tearing up, Alec reached down and tugged the plain silver chain out of his shirt and ran a finger over the elegant, old-fashioned ring. The light from the lamp made the sapphires sparkle. They had sparkled on that night too, Alec remembered. The soft glow of candlelight had made everything sparkle: their eyes, the glitter on Magnus's skin, the glitter caught in the material of the box… and the ring. Light from Magnus's cat eyes had reflected onto it from where he was kneeling, making the sapphires look like emeralds for just one moment before…

Alec squeezed his eyes shut and looked to the side, before abruptly standing up and dropping both the ring and the picture. The picture fluttered down onto the desk, while the ring fell back into it's usual place against his heart. It was about time he began heading to the cemetery anyways.

He let the tears fall freely for the first time in 10 years as he knelt in front of the gravestone. The lettering on it was swirling and elegant, and reminded Alec of the warlock himself. He didn't even hesitate when he felt it was time for him to start speaking; he already knew what he wanted to say, if Magnus could hear him.

"How did you do it? How did you ever survive as long as you did in this world, never changing, watching everyone you love die? I've only been immortal for a decade, and… it's too much. Forever is nothing without you. You know what the hardest part is? I never got to say good-bye. I never even got to say yes. You just… died; before I could even register… you were gone. There are so, so many things I wish I'd said to you, a thousand things I wish I'd had a chance to apologize for, a million things I wish I'd thanked you for. Sometimes I think that's the only reason I'm still here… I think that I have to take every single chance I can find to say this to you. If you can hear me now… it's over. I'm done. Jace and Iz are both dead; they're the only ones other than you I ever lived for. After tonight, I'm done. I've tried every other way of reaching you, and… there's only one more thing I can think of. I know it won't be easy, but I'll figure out how… a greater demon, perhaps. Or even the poison that killed you. Regardless… maybe I'll be with you soon, love. I hope so… because I love you Magnus. I always will."

He fell silent after that, feeling totally and completely drained. He just knelt tracing the inscription in the cold marble over and over with frozen fingers, waiting for some answer… some acknowledgement, some proof that Magnus was there.

He must've, at some point, fallen asleep for before he knew it, he was dreaming. He was back in The Forest of Secrets, The Secret Garden, Neverland, Oz, Malec Glade, Wonderland… they had many, many names for it. The small patch of trees tucked back in a little-known corner of Central Park, with its beautiful flowers and tiny pond at the clearing in its center, it was their place. Back in the old days when he was still closeted it had been their meeting place and since then it had become more; it now held more precious memories than even their apartment. Alec hadn't been there since the year after Magnus's death—at first he had spent every waking moment there, but then it had suddenly become too painful and he hadn't returned since.

Suddenly, he was jerked out of his reminiscing by a voice. Magnus's voice—he was talking to him, Alec! The words hardly registered with him because he was lost, lost in the simple beauty of his warlock's voice. And then there was Magnus, running towards him with a blinding, dazzling happiness on his face while Alec stood rooted to his place until he was scooped up in strong, familiar arms and held tightly. He wrapped his own arms securely around Magnus as if he would never let go. The two kissed desperately, that one touch holding all the passion of ten years, but then—in the middle of that moment when only they existed—the Warlock pushed the Shadowhunter away.

Shock and hurt showed in Alec's gorgeous eyes as he stumbled back. Magnus almost stepped forward to catch him, for it was completely against his nature to hurt the ones he loved, but stopped himself quickly as tears constricted his throat. "Alec… I can't do this, I just can't, because this is just a dream, _you're_ just a dream, and if I let myself remember, if I let this dream make me happy…" here his voice dropped to a whisper, a stunned whisper, "it will only hurt worse when I wake up. _I_ will only hurt worse, and any more… I just can't take it Alec! I. Can't. Take. It."

He fell silent as a sob ripped through him and as he backed away he tripped and started to fall—but he never hit the ground. Alec was there. "Magnus," he said softly. "Magnus, look at me."

The beautiful warlock did, and Alec kissed him, full of seriousness. When they broke apart, he continued speaking. "I am not a dream. I am choosing to believe that you are not a dream either. That may be just wishful thinking; I don't know. But I think that it's the legend. That story was _true_, Magnus. It's real. And for some reason I'm here and you're here and neither of us are dead… I don't know why, I don't know how, I just know that it is. Now come on… we have some catching up to do."

And with that, he took Magnus's hand and drew him to the spot by the pond where they always used to sit those 10 years ago.

It hadn't been long—3 hours, maybe—when Magnus cut off mid-sentence. "Do you smell that?"

"Smell wha-" he broke off, eyes widening in terror, as he _saw_ it. Great, leaping flames closed in on the clearing and hovered in a ring around it, creeping closer and closer at a painfully slow speed.

"T-this is when we should wake up… isn't it? As soon as the mortal peril appears?" Magnus asked shakily, his face white.

"I don't want to wake up!" Alec protested, shaking his head vehemently. "Magnus, I don't want to wake up. I don't care if I die, at least we'll be together!"

"I know, love. I don't want to wake up either… I'd rather die here with you than go back alone. So we won't wake up. But… first…" Magnus reached up and undid the clasp on the chain and let the ring slip off into his hand. "Alexander Lightwood… will you come with me into forever, and whatever comes after?"

Alec nodded wordlessly, and Magnus slipped the silver ring into place on his hand. As he did so, Alec removed his own ring and put it in it's place on Magnus's hand, nothing but love and happiness in his heart.

"Thank you," Alec whispered. Magnus just drew the Shadowhunter into his arms and there they sat, together, as the flames closed in ever so slowly. Their hands remained clasped, and they kissed each other over and over, not a flicker of fear in either of them. Then, as they drew their last breaths, 3 words echoed in the glade: "I love you."

Once the fire had died, leaving naught but two charred corpses and two melted rings behind, a chilling voice rang out across the park: "Magnus, my son, you should've known better than to infuriate your dear mother!"

**A/N: Well this is up a bit late, but oh well. I promise I wasn't PLANNING on it being this sad… it was going to have a happy ending, but this is what the story wanted to happen! D: Also, the ending wasn't too good cause I was rushing to get it done… happy New Year's, everyone!**


End file.
